


you called me from a payphone

by memitims



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Kissing, M/M, POV Alternating, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memitims/pseuds/memitims
Summary: four times they call each other.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 23
Kudos: 230





	you called me from a payphone

**Author's Note:**

> light manga spoilers ahead!! this was inspired by kageyama and hinata's phone call in the haikyuu!! final guidebook. they call each other, i want to scream. thanks for reading!! :)

Shouyou shoves his volleyball shoes into his messy bag and pushes the bag into his locker. He knows it’ll probably come tumbling out when he opens it next time, but that’s a problem for future Shouyou. He grabs his phone off the wooden locker room bench and rushes out into the large hallway beyond. He thinks Bokuto yells something after him, but he has more important things on his mind at the moment. 

The last golden streams of daylight filter through the window at the end of the hall. Shouyou practically runs down the hallway and sits on the small patch of sun spread out across the floor. It’s warm and peaceful in this spot, and he’s glad to catch it before the sun is completely gone under the horizon. He stretches his legs out in front of him, twisting a little to the right and to the left, gently loosening up his hips. They had stretched out after practice, but he still feels a little tight from the long day of drills. 

Once he’s done stretching, Shouyou holds his phone up to his face and opens the call app. He taps on the last called number at the top. He raises the phone and holds it gently up to his ear. It rings twice.

“Oi,” Kageyama Tobio says, right before the third ring. At the sound of Kageyama’s voice, Shouyou presses the phone closer to his ear. His voice is clearer that way. He leans his head fully back against the wall and closes his eyes. 

“Hi, Kageyama,” Shouyou says, trying not to let too much of the giddiness he feels seep into his own voice. He’s sure he probably fails miserably. Hearing Kageyama’s voice just gets him all jittery. “Are you still on lunch?”

Silence on the other end. Shouyou laughs. 

“Kageyama! I told you to stop nodding when we talk on the phone. I can’t see you, silly.”

“Sorry,” Kageyama mumbles. “You know I don’t make phone calls very often. Silly,” he adds, his voice getting louder with the insult. 

Shouyou’s laugh trails off. “We’ve been practicing though,” he says, thoughtfully. 

They have been. Shouyou calls him whenever he can after practice, whenever he gets out early enough that it’s still around noon in Rome and there’s a chance Kageyama is still eating lunch. He tries really hard to ignore his phone bill. They’d called each other lots of times, of course, after high school, when Shouyou felt separated by more than just distance. But it was never this regular, never as much a part of Shouyou’s day as breathing or playing volleyball (or thinking about Kageyama). Now, he doesn’t get to just think about him, he gets to hear Kageyama’s low voice murmuring through the telephone line, talking about his teammates and Italy and the things he sees on his daily runs through the city. 

“Yeah,” Kageyama responds, pulling Shouyou’s head out of the clouds and firmly back to the sun-soaked hallway. “Sometimes my teammates say things.”

Shouyou laughs again. “Really? Like what?”

He can picture Kageyama’s small shrug. 

“They just laugh at me, a little,” Kageyama says. “For eating my lunch so fast. I told them I always eat fast, but they didn’t really believe me.”

“You _do_ always eat fast, though.”

“Right?” Kageyama sighs. “They also think I’m always out going for walks. Which I am, sometimes.”

“But, sometimes, you’re talking to me.” Shouyou finishes for him. 

“Yeah,” Kageyama says. “You do call me, like, almost every day.” 

Shouyou shifts the phone against his ear, adjusting his grip. “Should I stop?” he asks, teasing. He doesn’t call _every_ day, sometimes he has dinner plans or he’s too tired or he promised Natsu he’d call her instead, but Kageyama answers the phone way more than Shouyou would have expected. 

Kageyama is quiet for a moment. Shouyou shifts his whole body now, trying to get comfortable against the hard wall. 

“Of course not,” Kageyama finally says, quietly, like it’s a secret. 

“Good,” Shouyou says. He senses that Kageyama is feeling a little quiet, maybe a little shy today. He gets like that sometimes. Shouyou wonders exactly what his teammates have been saying to him. Hopefully nothing Kageyama can’t handle. He changes the subject. “What did you have for lunch today, Kageyama?”

“Meatballs,” Kageyama answers. “And broccoli.” 

Shouyou feels his stomach start to rumble at Kageyama’s words. That was the problem with talking to Kageyama at this time, when he’s exhausted and starving after a long afternoon of practice and he gets to hear about all the different kinds of Italian food they feed him in Rome. 

He ignores the pain in his stomach, and they talk for a while longer, about one of Kageyama’s spikers, about Natsu joining her high school team, about Kageyama’s many experiences getting lost in the streets of Rome while out on a run. 

Shouyou doesn’t realize how long they talk until he sees Atsumu emerge from the locker room. He usually stays behind later on Wednesdays, to talk with their coach about setter-specific stuff or something like that. 

Atsumu grins when he notices Shouyou, his eyes immediately going to the phone in Shouyou’s hand. 

“Hey, Kageyama!” Atsumu yells down the hall, interrupting Kageyama’s explanation of the park near his apartment that he apparently uses as a landmark when he gets lost. Shouyou wonders if he’s really that obvious, or if his teammates just know that Kageyama is who he’s calling nearly every day. He thinks probably a little bit of both. He’s always been, unfortunately, a little obvious when it comes to Kageyama. 

“Atsumu,” Shouyou whispers, in case Kageyama couldn’t make out his voice. 

“Oh,” Kageyama says. “Tell him I say hello.”

“Kageyama says hi!” Shouyou chirps back to Atsumu. He stands up to face him, still pressing the phone against his ear. “I should go,” he says into the mouthpiece. “I’m starving, and you should get back to your team.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama agrees. “Talk soon, Hinata.”

Shouyou beams, even though he knows Kageyama can’t see his face over the phone. Atsumu gives him a weird look. He says goodbye and touches the screen to hang up. He really hopes that ‘soon’ means tomorrow. 

“Ya talk to him every day?” Atsumu asks.

“No,” Shouyou says quickly, feeling his face heat up slightly at the question. Not a lie, technically. “Let’s go get food, please.”

Tobio pulls on his sleep shirt and pulls back the covers on his bed, slipping underneath them and stretching out his legs as far as they go. It’s midnight, a bit past his usual bedtime, but he had been caught up watching a MSBY match from last week. He hadn’t meant to watch the entire thing, but Hinata had been at the top of his game — especially in the last two sets — and he really can't stop watching that. No way in hell. Hinata is mesmerizing, like a bright piece of star, and even if he turned fully into the sun, Tobio would probably burn his eyes up looking at him. He thinks it’s been that way from the beginning, from that very first game in middle school. 

He grabs his phone, and his sleep-addled brain types out a message. 

**Tobio:** You played well last week.

He sets his phone down on his bedside table and turns away, sinking into his pillow and closing his eyes. He doesn’t expect the almost immediate _buzz_ of his phone against the wooden table. _Damnit_. It’s early in Osaka, probably seven a.m., but he guesses Hinata could be up for practice or something. The phone buzzes again. Tobio groans and rubs his hand over his eyes. The whole point of the late-night text was that he didn’t need to worry about it until the morning. 

He sits up and reaches for his phone. He’s well past the point of first year Tobio, unwilling to complement Hinata to his face, scared that if he opened his mouth the words just wouldn’t stop spilling out and suddenly it would be aggressively obvious how he felt about Hinata, and worried that Hinata might stop pushing himself if Tobio told him _good job_. He knows that the last reason was stupid. Hinata will never stop pushing himself to his limits, and Tobio will never stop watching in wonder. 

**Hinata:** kageyamaaa  
 **Hinata:** i felt realy good in the game. like even more aware than usual? u know?

Tobio understands the feeling. He could tell, too, by the way Hinata bewitched the ball around the blockers, tricking them into thinking he was going one way and smashing it home in the opposite direction, or dumping it softly over their heads. 

**Tobio:** Yea  
 **Tobio:** Sometimes you are your own best decoy.

Honestly, Tobio barely even knows what that means, but it makes some sense in his tired, tired brain. He hopes Hinata understands, because he is _not_ explaining if he asks. Hinata doesn’t respond for a few minutes, and when he does, it’s only a few words.

 **Hinata:** i like that

Tobio’s pressing the call button before he even realizes what he’s doing, his brain too far behind his traitorous fingers and the stupidly tight feeling in his chest to stop himself. 

The line barely even rings once before Hinata answers. _Oops_ , Tobio mumbles to himself, finally realizing that he actually picked up the phone and _called_ Hinata, in the middle of the night, for really no reason other than that he might miss him, just a little bit.

“Kageyama?” Hinata says, his voice sounding bright and alert, way more so than it should at seven in the morning. It’s loud, too, and Tobio winces a little and clicks down the volume on the side of his phone. 

“Hi,” Tobio says, not really sure what else to say. His typical phone conversations with Hinata usually entail him being a lot more awake and with a great deal more brain-functioning ability. 

“Hi, Kageyama,” Hinata responds. “Did you mean to call?”

“I... yeah. Sorry. I know it’s early.” 

“That’s okay! I had to get up early anyway. I’m meeting Yachi for coffee.”

“That sounds nice,” Tobio says. He feels a little pang in his chest. He misses Hinata like crazy, but he misses Yachi, too. He misses her kind smiles and her uncanny ability to guess what Tobio’s thinking. “Tell her I say hi.”

“I will!” Hinata assures him. “Why are you up this late, anyway?”

Tobio has at least enough self-preservation to stop himself from admitting that it’s because he spent a little too long on the MSBY Black Jackal’s YouTube page. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says, instead. 

Hinata laughs. It sounds like spring, to Tobio. “You should be bad at sleeping more often. Your text was nice.”

Tobio mumbles something that even he doesn’t understand. He feels his cheeks heat up a little bit, too. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s texted Hinata about his matches, Hinata knows he watches them and Tobio often sends him something nice among the critiques, but he’s probably never just sent him something like this, with no context or constructive criticism. 

He listens to Hinata chatter on about last week’s game, his day, what he likes about the place where he’s meeting Yachi for coffee and Tobio lets the words wash over him, the cadence and familiarity of Hinata’s voice lulling him to sleep. He asks the occasional question but mostly just listens, and the stray thought that he likes listening to Hinata talk before going to bed filters into his brain and gets stuck. He probably wouldn’t mind this more often. 

“—and she said we should try this place around the corner that had really good cream pan—”

“Hinata,” Tobio interrupts, his voice low and rough from the lack of sleep. He thinks he might be half-asleep already, and his brain feels fuzzy and mostly disconnected from his mouth, if his next three words are anything to go by.

“I miss you.”

Hinata goes silent. Tobio’s eyes slip fully closed now and he sinks into his pillow, listening to the soft, rhythmic sound of Hinata’s breathing through the speakerphone. 

“Kage—Tobio,” Hinata starts, and Tobio blinks his eyes open at Hinata’s use of his name. The pang in his chest seems somehow even larger than before. He hears Hinata take a breath, like he’s steadying himself before a big jump. “I know you’re in Italy right now, but I’m going to come and beat you, okay? Don’t forget that. I’ll be there to kick your ass soon enough.”

“Good.” Tobio closes his eyes again. “See you soon, then.”

Hinata echoes him, and then he starts talking about a new pair of shoes he bought and Tobio falls asleep to the excited tone of his voice and the soft curves of Hinata’s face dancing on the back of his eyelids. 

Tobio’s spent three hours perusing the internet for a birthday gift for Miwa and he wants to throw his computer against the wall. If he has to look at another page of handbags, he’s going to scream. He checks the time. It’s Sunday, three p.m., and he knows Hinata will still be awake. He shoves some papers around on his desk until he uncovers his phone. 

Hinata answers on the fourth ring. 

“You awake?” Tobio asks, and Hinata tells him that of course he’s awake, he doesn’t typically answer the phone while he’s sleeping. Tobio basically growls into the mouthpiece in response. 

“What do you need, To-bi-o?” Hinata asks, playfully stretching out his name. Tobio doesn’t know when he suddenly got so comfortable using it, but he’s not going to complain. Even if Hinata does use it to tease him. He likes the sound of his name in Hinata’s mouth, the way his mouth rounds around the last vowel and stretches it out. 

“Why do you assume I need something?” Tobio retorts, a little sheepishly. 

Hinata hums back at him, waiting. _Brat._

“Fine,” Tobio sighs. “I’m having a hard time picking out a birthday gift for Miwa.”

Hinata lets out a squeal, and Tobio knows if they were next to each other, Hinata would have jumped at least a foot in the air in a fit of excitement.

“I love picking out gifts!”

Tobio lets out a small laugh. “I know. That’s why I called you, dummy.”

“Hmm,” Hinata says. Tobio knows he’s scrunching up his brow in thought. He wishes he was in the same room as Hinata, so he could run his hands over Hinata’s forehead and smooth out the wrinkles with his fingertips. “Well, what were you thinking about getting her?”

“I was looking at backpacks and handbags, but I don’t really know what she already has and what she likes.”

“Yeah,” Hinata says. “That’s kinda boring, too.”

Tobio scoffs at him. “Thanks.”

“You wanted my help!”

Tobio sighs and adjusts the phone against his ear. “You haven’t been very helpful so far…”

“Kageyama.” Hinata laughs. “Has anyone ever told you that you aren’t very good at asking for favors?”

“Yes. You have.”

“Well, then be quiet and let me think.”

Tobio obeys. He drums his fingers on his computer impatiently. After about thirty seconds of boredom, he breaks down. 

“Hinata.”

Hinata shushes him. “Let the King of Gifts do his job.”

“Oh, you’re a King now?” That gets Tobio half laughed at, half shushed. 

“Kageyama,” Hinata warns. 

He falls back into silence. This time he entertains himself by gently kicking his volleyball around on the floor. It’s about another minute before Hinata opens his mouth again. 

“Miwa moved recently, right?” 

“Yeah,” Tobio says. “And?”

“Well, you could get her a piece of artwork or something for her apartment. I bet she doesn’t have a ton of decorations yet.”

Tobio thinks for a moment. He hasn’t been to Miwa’s new apartment, of course, as it’s in Tokyo and he’s very much in Rome, but he’s seen it over FaceTime and the walls did look a little sparse. He has to hand it to Hinata. He _is_ legitimately good at this. 

“Hmm, yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”

Hinata lets out a happy noise. “Okay! I have some ideas of stuff she’d like. I’ll email them to you tomorrow.” Tobio hears him let out a yawn. “I need to sleep now though. I’m tired.”

“Okay,” says Tobio. “Talk later.” After a second, he adds, softly: “I hope you sleep well.” His stupid heart betrays him, speeding up slightly as he waits for Hinata’s response. He doesn’t usually say things like this when he’s wide awake, when it’s the middle of the day and he has no possible excuse of sleepiness for his words. 

“Thanks, Tobio,” Hinata says, equally as soft. “Thanks for calling, too.” 

“Bye.” Tobio hangs up, Hinata’s voice ringing soft in his ears. 

Shouyou climbs out of the taxi, thanks the driver with one of the few phrases in Italian he knows and lugs his suitcase onto the sidewalk. He looks up at the apartment building looming before him, a tall, pretty structure made of dark brick and light cream molding. He checks his phone one more time to be sure that the number is correct. It is. He scrolls above the messages and presses call.

It’s seven p.m. in Rome. The sun has already set, but the last streams of light brush the tops of the surrounding buildings. Kageyama answers after one ring. 

“Hinata?” He sounds confused. “Isn’t it late there?”

“Can you open your door?” Shouyou asks, and he’s pretty sure the next sound he hears is Kageyama dropping his phone. He also hears him say _shit_ and then he sees movement up in the third-floor window. He watches a very bewildered Kageyama press his face against the glass, peering down at Shouyou on the street below.

He’s pretty sure Kageyama’s phone is still on the floor, so he hangs up and rolls his suitcase up the short four steps leading up to Kageyama’s apartment building door. The buzzer sounds almost immediately afterwards. 

Shouyou pushes the door open and treks up the two flights of stairs, suitcase in tow. He looks around for Kageyama’s door, locates it, and knocks. Kageyama opens it almost immediately. 

It’s almost unreal, the way he stands there, tall and strong, his arms crossed against his chest, living, breathing, and very much _real_. Shouyou looks at his dark hair, swept to either side of his forehead, at his tight, blue t-shirt that Shouyou recognizes as his favorite one for running, at the slope of his nose. He finally makes his way to Kageyama’s blue, blue eyes and they stare directly at each other for a few moments, before Kageyama reaches and pulls his suitcase inside, then pulls Shouyou himself inside by the wrist, and shuts the door behind him. Kageyama places his palms on either side of Shouyou’s head and crowds him against the door. 

“Hi,” Shouyou squeaks out. Kageyama is staring at him so intensely that he thinks he might combust. “Are you going to say anyth—”

Kageyama leans forward and kisses away the rest of his sentence from his lips. Shouyou gasps into his mouth and kisses back, his hands coming up to rest on Kageyama’s shoulders. He pulls him even closer. The kiss is nice, soft, but Shouyou can feel a gentle thrum of desperation behind it, like if they kissed any harder, they might not ever be able to stop. They break apart and Kageyama leans his forehead against Shouyou’s, his hands still caging him against the door. Shouyou looks up at him and breathes a little heavy and it’s not from the two flights of stairs. 

“Hi,” Kageyama says, his breath ghosting against Shouyou’s lips. And then: “You’re in my apartment.” His voice is tinged with disbelief, like he couldn’t believe Shouyou would ever be standing here, in the small entrance to his apartment, pushed up against his door with his hands on Kageyama’s shoulders.

Shouyou nods. “I decided to come to the tournament a little early. Figured I could see what Rome is all about.”

Although, he probably wouldn’t complain even if they spent the whole time in Kageyama’s apartment. He doesn’t _really_ care about Rome; he only really cares about the person he loves that just happens to live there.

“What if I wasn’t here, dumbass? What if we had an away match? What if I wasn’t at my apartment when you got off the plane?” Kageyama asks. 

“You know your tournament schedule is online, right? And why do you think I kept asking about your schedule the other day when we were on the phone?”

“Still,” Kageyama sputters. “You–you can’t just show up here without any notice.”

“Are you mad?” Shouyou asks. 

“No,” Kageyama says, and he presses a quick kiss to Shouyou’s lips, like he’s trying to prove that he’s not. “You’re just crazy. Look before you leap, Hinata.”

“Never.” And he doesn’t. He pulls Kageyama in and kisses the hell out of him and puts his hands on Kageyama’s chest and flips them around so Kageyama is the one pressed against the door, and he doesn’t think about much of anything except the feeling of their mouths sliding together and the steady beat of Kageyama’s heart under his palms. And then Kageyama tugs his hands through Shouyou’s hair and Shouyou suddenly can’t think of anything at all. He just leaps. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [ tumblr](https://memitims.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/memitims).


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